


Lovely

by joyfulsongbird



Category: Hadestown - Mitchell
Genre: F/M, That's it, eurydice wears orpheus' shirts, it's adorable
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-08
Updated: 2019-11-08
Packaged: 2021-01-25 14:36:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21357835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joyfulsongbird/pseuds/joyfulsongbird
Summary: “Is that my shirt?”***Eurydice gets cold as winter sets in and uses one of Orpheus' shirts to get warmer in the middle of the night. Orpheus really can't get over it.
Relationships: Eurydice/Orpheus (Hadestown)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 65





	Lovely

Eurydice woke to a chill, and from that, brought a dread in the bottom of stomach.

winter was coming.

Her first instinct was to run, always, she wanted to pack her things and go, go so far that the weather couldn’t find her, burrow herself underneath a blanket of snow and never come up. But the warm breath on her back reminded her of what was keeping her in this bed. His arms gentle around her waist, they weren’t holding her back forcibly, they were reminding her of why she decided to stay: love, warmth, commitment to Orpheus. She wanted to stay because of him. And this was what allowed her to slip out of bed but not leave the house. What allowed her to blindly search the top drawer for something to cover herself in, for her underclothes weren’t cutting it.

She shivered as she pulled out a random shirt that she pulled over her head quickly before sliding under the covers once again.

He mumbled out something incoherent into her hair.

“hm?” she replied softly.

“nothin’“ he murmured. “I’m still asleep.”

“me too.” she chuckled, rolling over her side so that she was facing Orpheus. She pressed a soft kiss to the tip of nose. “I’m right here, love.”

“mmm… good.” and soon after that, his breathing evened into something that meant slumber. she followed after that, her forehead resting close to his, feeling each outward breath on her collarbones.

**

As usual, she woke first, to sunshine streaming from the window onto their bed, she savored the cold light, hoping for it to turn into warm spring rays. but it remains a chilly blue. as if in one final hopeful push, she squeezes her eyes shut, demanding that the world hold out for warmth one more day. Give them one more day of summer sun and green grass. Give them one more day of long days and fields of flowers.

She didn’t think it was going to change, and it doesn’t. The chill in the air, if anything, gets colder.

Her feet hit the floor first, the wood felt freezing, causing her to curl her toes upwards in shock. A small squeak escaped her lips, a sound not really like her, but managed to wake Orpheus in it’s loudness. She didn’t realize it at first, she just sat there on the bed, trying to prepare herself for what waited outside this little bubble in their home. Frost on the grass, perhaps. The trees beginning to change, or leaves already falling to the ground. Fall changes every year. Sometimes it’s long and drawn out. Some years it doesn’t come at all and goes straight to winter. This year, the cold comes on faster than she’d ever seen it. Chilling her straight to the bone.

“Love?” his voice, scratchy from the morning, reminded her of where she was.

She turned quickly, climbing closer to sit on her knees next to him. “Morning.”

He covered his face by draping his arm over his face, “what time is it? Actually, don’t answer that, I know the answer. It’s too early.”

It made her laugh, but it sounded strained. Orpheus could pick up on that sort of thing, he was perceptive, especially with people he was close to. He sat up, leaning against the headboard to get a good look at her. His eyes flitted down to the rest of her body, up to her face again, and back down. A nearly comical double take.

“Is that my shirt?” he shook his head as if to get rid of the intruding thought. But he couldn’t seem to let it go, his eyes keep dropping and squinting at the clothes she’s wearing as if he wasn’t quite sure it was his. “Sorry, not important, is something wrong?”

The look on his face, cheeks just a little pink and eyes slightly wider than usual. It nearly dissolved her worries about winter. A smile curved her lips upwards. A laugh bubbled up in her throat.

“What?” he asked, cheeks reddening even more.

“the look… on your face.” she giggled, not a sound often made. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to make fun.”

He placed a tentative hand on her waist, just resting it there while Eurydice laughed. He stared, not in a way that made her squirm or want to cover herself, but in a way that filled her with warmth. He looked at with a reverence. Like she was a goddess high above what he thought he had ever seen before.

“do you look beautiful in everything?” he asked shyly. To cover up her blush, she rolled her eyes and stood up, grabbing his wrist and pulling him up with her.

“C’mon.” she prompted. “We’ve got to get started early today if we’re going to make it to the bar before Hermes, remember, he wanted us to set up today?”

he nodded, but still, he stared. she wasn’t sure he was receiving the information but that didn’t matter, she’d remind him later.

Every time he called her beautiful, it made her cheeks go on fire. She believed him, she’d never doubted her beauty. But the way he said it, the way he said it even when she wore nothing but one of his plain, ratty shirts. How he never saw as anything but wonderful. Not as damaged goods, not as easy action, but as good, and kind, and beautiful.

“you should wear my stuff more often,” he said from behind as she rummaged through one of her drawers. “it suits you.”

“I might,” she replied without looking up. “but you can’t stare at me while we’re at work if I do. Hermes might kick us out.”

when she looked up, his eyes were still following her. when she met his gaze, he snapped his eyes away. “sorry.”

“no,” she said right away. “don’t be. I don’t mind in the slightest.” she gestured to herself vaguely. “I’d look at me too, if I were you.”

he grinned, stepping forward to take both her hands and lift them to his mouth, kissing palms and her knuckles. 

“I love you.” he said it simply, truthfully.

Would the butterflies in her stomach ever cease when he said it like that? whenever he said it?

“I love you too.”

and when would she stop being so happy that that was true?


End file.
